Guilty by Design
by Iveechan
Summary: A Hitmonchan, born innocent and trained to become a deadly fighter, goes down the path of desensitazation. rating for violence.
1. Blank Slate

GUILTY BY DESIGN  
  
By Katelyn, aka Iveechan  
  
Author's note: Since this is based off the anime episode, "The Punchy Pokemon", you'll notice that Anthony's name was changed to Rick. This was because I didn't know his name when I first started. Ah well.  
  
Chapter one: Blank Slate  
  
He watched the small modest house with intense golden eyes. His claws dug into the cold earth, his muscles tensed, his heart pounded angrily. In that house was the man who ruined his life. The latch on the door began to twist. Now was his chance for revenge...  
  
Five years prior...  
  
"Remember when it hatches, let it see you first. That way it will become more attached."  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
The breeder, a young man with pleasant blue hair, led a tall thiry something year old man with short earthen hair named Rick and his young braided daughter, Rebecca, to the spacious incubation room. It housed rows upon rows of pink, geletanious Ditto eggs. The eggs contained some of the rarest Pokemon known to man, including ones yet to be named. The breeder picked one of the eggs up.  
  
"Here it is," he said in a voice low enough as not to disturb the egg's occupant. "This egg contains a Tyrogue. The father was a powerful Hitmonlee, a champion fighter. This one has good blood."  
  
The breeder handed Rick the egg. The surface was warm and soft. "When will it hatch?" Rick questioned.  
  
"Any day now," said the breeder. "Just keep it under a heat lamp in a quiet room and it'll be fine...and you have to be in the newborn's presence when it hatches. You have no idea how many Pokemon came out traumatized when there was no caretaker in site at the time of their birth."  
  
"No problem!" Rick beamed. The breeder handed Rick the egg in a special box that would prevent it from rolling around. Rick wrote out the check...$2,973.95.  
  
Rebecca sighed. 'There goes my college education,' she thought.  
  
Almost a week had passed. Rebecca was in the kitchen with the pink egg was set snugly in a bed of towels on the table. She adjusted the red-lighted heat lamp and turned the egg over. It was surprisingly heavy, about four pounds.  
  
"It should've hatched by now!" she heard Rick yell from another room. "That damn breeder, I should demand my money back!" The egg flinched - a reaction to outside commotion.  
  
"I'm sure it will be tonight!" said Rebecca, a bit annoyed by her father's impatience. She stoked the egg's smooth surface. 'Please let it be tonight...we depend on you,' she thought.  
  
About a year ago, Rebecca's mother, the sole breadwinner of the family, was killed in a car accident. Rick had been deeply depressed and near suicidal ever since the tragic incident. He was too upset to even hold a decent job. One day, as if a beacon of hope had shined on him, Rick saw a sign for the P-1 Grand Prix, a Pokemon tournament specializing in Fighting types that was held every four years. The winner recieved a rather large cash prize, among other things. With only six months to go until the next tournament, Rick decided that he had to get himself a good Pokemon quickly, so he invested his life savings into the egg he hoped would get his family out of their rut.  
  
Suddenly, Rebecca noticed a jerk of movement out of the corner of her eye. She gasped as she realized the egg was beginning to hatch. A tear appeared across the surface and translucent pink liquid poured out. Rebecca shot up. "Daddy, it's hatching, come quick!"  
  
Rick raced into the room, almost tripping. "Don't let it see you, don't let it see you!"  
  
Rebecca moved out of the way. They watched the egg intently. A short face began to make its way out, and in a diving position the rest of the Tyrogue slipped out, laying huddled in a curled position. Rick was so overjoyed, he picked the little humanoid up in one hand and held it to the light to get a better look at it. The soaked Tyrogue squirmed in his strong grip. Unlike the more reconizeable fighter, the hatchling had almost no crest definition, was more of a dust rose tone with paler coloration on the belly, and its proportions resembled that of a newborn monkey. It had a short lizard-like tail and its feet looked almost like a small dinosaurs', the four clawed toes were shorter on the outside and longer on the inside. A bit of fluid streamed from the mouth as the newborn gasped for air.  
  
"Look at him, Rebecca," said Rick. "He may look like a scrawny runt now, but one day he will make us rich! I think I'll name him Champ... does that sound good?"  
  
"He'll be dead if you don't let me clean him off!" Rebecca said. She was quite knowledgable about Pokemon births, thanks to her free-roaming pet Meowth who presented her with a fresh litter of kittens every few months.  
  
Rick waited a few moments. "Ok, he opened his eyes, so he should be imprinted on me now! Here you go, be careful."  
  
Rebecca gathered the Tyrogue up in a thick towel and vigorously rubbed off the liquid. Then, making sure her grip was secure, gave one quick shake to get the remaining fluid out of the Tyrogue's lungs. He cried out, his shrill squeal sounding like a bird's chirp.  
  
"Oi...kinda earpiercing, huh?" Rick laughed. He looked at the clock. "Wow, it sure is late. Let's go to bed, I should wake up early to start training Champ."  
  
"Training so soon?" Rebecca questioned. "But he won't even be a full day old!"  
  
"The sooner the better!" said Rick. He took the towel wrapped Tyrogue from his daughter, scowling a bit at the gentle appearance of his drowsy form. "You better be worth what I payed for, Champ. Good night, Becca!"  
  
"Good night Daddy!" Rebecca has never seen her father so happy and hopeful before. She hoped it would last...  
  
The next morning, eager to see the baby Tyrogue, Rebecca galloped down the steps, sounding more like a Tauros stampede than a young girl. As she entered the cheery kitchen, she was surprised to see her father grizzled and unshaven and clad in an aged robe. 'I guess daddy decided not to train early afterall,' Rebecca observed in her mind. She then smiled when she noticed the little Tyrogue, Champ, perched in Rick's lap, eating a peach. He would bite down firmly, pull his head back until a good sized chunk was yanked out, then swallow it whole. Rebecca noticed Champ had a cloth wrap around his waist, a old custom which stemmed from the belief that the center of the body is the most important and should always be kept warm.  
  
"So did you decide not to train him yet afterall?" Rebecca asked as she streched her fingers out to stroke Champ. He yelped and flinched at her touch as though she were poison. Rebecca was a bit offended by the reaction, yet her father paid no mind.  
  
"Huh? Oh, no, thanks for the reminder!" He abruptly stood up, causing Champ to grip onto his robe for dear life. The Tyrogue slid down and hit the floor with a soft thud.  
  
"Be careful!" said Rebecca. She scrambled to help Champ, but he leered at her as he clutched Rick's pants leg possesively. Rebecca understood that Champ trusted only Rick since he recognized the human as his parent, but it still upset Rebecca a tad that the Tyrogue seemed to dislike her.  
  
"Hey Rebecca, watch this!" said Rick. He took a few steps and paused. Champ quickly followed Rick and stopped right next to him, looking up with anticipation. "This imprinting really works! Ok, buddy, time to train!"  
  
After Rick quickly got dressed, he and Champ entered the back yard. Champ froze the moment he reached the back porch. The bright natural sunlight was a stark contrast to the more appealing dullness of the inside of the house. He blinked a bit until he noticed Rick a good distance away, then leapt down off the porch, eager to catch up. Champ suddenly leapt back the moment his soft bare feet touched the grass. The prickly sensation startled him, but now he was a bit fascinated. Champ got down to his knees and cautiosly touched a bright green blade, watching it gently sway. Before the young Tyrogue could investigate further, Rick had doubled back to pick Champ up and made his way to their short destination. Champ, feeling secure in his trainer's grip, nuzzled into his shirt. The chirping of the bird Pokemon were a bit frightening compared to the house's relative silence, but as long as he was with Rick, Champ felt safe. Eventually, they arrived in a roomy shed nestled in the trees of the yard's border, and Rick set Champ down in front of a large punching bag that was hung from the ceiling.  
  
"Ok, Champ, see this thing?" Rick said to the little Pokemon. Champ was mesmerized by the tiny dust particles gently floating in the sunlight. They were so interesting...where did they come from?  
  
"Champ? Hello! Good, got your attention. Now, this thing...Champ!"  
  
Champ clumsily wandered to the ray of light just barely shining through a dusty window. The dust particles continued to dance in their clear yellow ballroom. Champ reached for them...  
  
"Dammit," Rick said quiety under his breath. He swiftly stormed over to Champ and grabbed him around the waist, his fingers pressing into Champ's belly, then angrily dropped him infront of the bag. Champ blinked and looked around, surprised and confused by that sudden swift action.  
  
"Ok, good," said Rick. "Now, do as I do. First you stand with your arms like this, then..."  
  
Champ suddenly noticed an interesting tear in the bag. A long piece of dark string was dangling from it. Champ touched the string, pulling at it with his short fingers.  
  
Suddenly, WHACK! Something struck Champ on the side of his head. The force caused him to collide painfully against the hard concrete floor. Champ looked up and cowered when he saw how's Rick's normally placid face had distorted into anger, his sharp eyes glaring, teeth tightly clenched.  
  
"Look, stupid, do as I say or I'll hit you again!" Rick snarled.  
  
"Ty?" Champ questioned.  
  
Rick yanked Champ up by the arm and set him in front of the bag again. Rick took a fighting stance, his fists near his face, and then gave the bag a punch so strong, it swung wildly and a cloud of dust flew out. He looked at Champ, who had forgotten about the slight sting of having his arm pulled. "Now, you do the same."  
  
Champ imitated Rick exactly. After he punched the bag also, he looked at his trainer for approval. Rick seemed pleased. Champ bounced in glee as the warmth of pleasing his trainer erased his shock of fearing the man.  
  
"Good! Now do it again. Good, good, now do it with more power. No, I said more power. More power I say!"  
  
WHACK!  
  
Later that evening, Rick and Champ returned to the house. Rebecca was in the kitchen sitting on a stool near the stove, waiting for the pot of water to boil. She smiled when she saw her father enter.  
  
"I'm glad you're finally back! You must be famished, you were out there all day! How's Champ doing?"  
  
Rebecca jumped down, ran up to the Tyrogue, and knelt to his level. She gasped in surprise. He was covered in dirt, scrapes decorated on his body, and a dark greenish purple bruise was forming around his eye. Champ backed away from Rebecca, pressed himself against Rick's leg and growled.  
  
"He doesn't listen half the time," said Rick. "This runt was a waste of money."  
  
"He's only a day old!" protested Rebecca. "Give him time, he'll get better! You can't expect him to become a champion over night!"  
  
"He better be a damn good fighter by the tournament," said Rick as he scooted Champ away with his foot. "I'll have to train him harder tomorrow!" 


	2. Champ in Making

Chapter 2: Champ in Making  
  
Champ's lungs felt like they were about to explode. The lactic acid burned his muscles, the icey liquid surrounding him stung at his skin, but he had to keep moving. If he kept this up any longer, he would surely die...  
  
"Ok Champ, that's good enough!"  
  
Rick pulled on the thin nylon rope tied under Champ's arms. He lifted the Tyrogue out of the water, snapped off the weights attached to his limbs and waist, and set him on the ground. Champ just collapsed on his back, eyes shut, chest heaving. Champ looked more like how a Tyrogue should, his crest was tall and his build was lean and muscular. He was on the thin side though, his entire ribcage visible when he inhaled. Champ was wearing nothing at the moment, but still only wore the waist wrap regularly.  
  
Earlier that morning, things started out normal. Rick and Champ trained at the punching bag (Champ making sure he didn't let his curious eyes wander), then they jogged through the forest path. Champ could hear the melodious chirps of wild Pidgey and rattling screeches of Nincada, yet he couldn't stop and explore or he'd have to answer to Rick's fist.  
  
At the end of the jog, Rick and Champ reached their destination: a big beautiful blue lake. The sapphire surface sparkled and glimmered under the sun's light. Champ was amazed at the spectacular sight. He was so dazzled by the shimmering lake he didn't noticed Rick clipping weighted cuffs to his body. The next thing Champ knew he found himself hurtling through the air, smashing through the stinging surface of the water, slowly sinking, the cold water slithering down his throat...  
  
"Looks like it might rain," Rick observed. "It's kinda grey real far off, but sunny here." He turned to Champ and nocticed him struggling to sit up. "Why haven't you evolved yet, huh? The P-1's only a month away, we can't enter you as a scrawny runt. Maybe that breeder scammed me..."  
  
Rick paused. He stared out into the distance, glaring at nothing in particular. 'People,' he thought. 'I swear, you can't trust anyone nowadays. Everyone's always striving to be on top, scamming and killing eachother, just to be the best. I know the bastard who killed Wanda did it on purpose. They were both competing for executive positions...Wanda's Omni was crushed that night by that jerk's monster SUV...he acted remorseful, but look at him now, he's living the high life in Celadon...'  
  
Rick sighed and looked over at Champ. He was sitting up now, still breathing hard. "Thank god I have you Champ," Rick said, Champ glancing at him from hearing his name. "You're the only thing in my life I can control right now...you trust and listen to me, you do as I say...I can determine your future." Rick then got up. "And I know you're gonna evolve! Now let's jog home, you've rested long enough! Come on, move it! Get up!"  
  
Kick!  
  
Evenings were tranquil. The house's interior was bathed in a gentle purple glow as the last few rays of sunlight were tucked away beneath the horizon. Rick and Rebecca were resting in the living room, listening to the radio, their only source of entertainment. Champ was curled comfortably in Rick's lap, half asleep. The soft jazz flowing from the old radio was suddenly rudely interrupted by the racuous announcement for the upcoming P-1 tournament. Champ felt a slight twinge of worry when the commercial's announcer spoke up:  
  
"The P-1 tournament is almost here! If you've got a Pokemon that's ripped, rough, and ready to rumble, take yourself down to the Pokemon gym and enter now! The prize is ten thousand dollars, plus a free trip for a weekend vacation in downtown Celadon City! So get training, because it's only one, I repeat, one month away!"  
  
The announcement ended with a brief recording of legal gibberish saying something about Psychic, Ghost, Poison and Flying types being prohibited.  
  
As Rick started ranting to Rebecca (who was reading a Pokezoology book and not paying him any attention) about his hunch that the breeder scammed him, Champ hopped out of Rick's lap and made his way to Rebecca's bedroom to find peace. Every time the familiar music of that commercial started playing, Rick would become exciteable and start to pressure Champ about the victory he HAD to accomplish. The little Tyrogue sped up his pace as he reached his destination. In the room he would find Fae, Rebecca's Meowth. Being the only other Pokemon Champ could get into contact with, she taught him how to speak the universal Pokemon language and even took a maternal interest to Champ when he was first born. But now that he was larger than her, she thought that he could pose threat to her unborn kittens, so she had become more distant to him lately.  
  
Champ jumped onto the side of the bed, gripping the quilt laying on top, then hoisted himself up. He groaned, his body aching from the training session earlier. He scrambled to Fae then settled down next to her. She shifted her position slightly to get further away, but Champ didn't notice. While the dark night, in addition to the beads of water droplets resting on the screened window from the earlier afternoon rain, obscured their view of the outside, they where able to listento the noises of the night; the tiny squeaks of Zubat, the screech of Hoothoot, the yelps and howls of distant Growlithe and Houndour packs, and cries of various nocturnal bugs.  
  
It's so noisy out there whispered Champ. Yet I can't see anything outside other than bugs. Where are they all?  
  
They're hiding Fae answered. They live in the forest.  
  
Champ sighed. I wish I could be out there with them.  
  
Fae snickered, her sharp ivory teeth showing. If you were out there, I don't know what would get you first, the hungry Growlithe or the poisonous Venomoth.  
  
But since they are hiding, I'd be safe if I was just out in the yard, right?  
  
Tell that to my past kittens who fell victim to those predators.  
  
Champ was silent, not knowing how to respond. He lay down up againt Fae, who put her ears back but did not get up. Her soft warm fur and the rhythm of her heart made him feel relaxed. Champ sighed again and cringed slightly as he felt a strange aching inside him he had felt since that morning.  
  
I don't feel very good. he said.  
  
No wonder, Rick's been harder on you than usual. I'm surprised you lasted this long, he's so mean.  
  
Champ became defensive. Rick is not mean!  
  
How do you explain those daily bruises and scrapes?  
  
He's only like that when I do something wrong. You don't understand, Rick's trying to make me better!  
  
Better at what? Fae questioned.  
  
I don't know...we're preparing for this P-1 thing.  
  
Do you know what the P-1 is?  
  
Silence.  
  
I thought so said Fae. Why don't you rest now, you've had a hard day.  
  
Champ nodded and closed his eyes. What exactly was the P1 anyway? Was it a special treat or a place? Was it something really great or terrible? Champ rolled over and cringed again from the pain. He didn't feel well, but it wasn't just from Rick's harsh training. He could feel it in his bones, his insides, some sort of unusual pain developing deep within him. After listening to the nocturnal sounds from beyond the screened window, he finally drifted to sleep.  
  
The sunlight bathed the lush meadow in a golden brilliance. The long grass rippled in the wind. The leaves of the trees shimmered like millions of tiny emeralds as they were tossed by gentle breeze. The wind, scented with fresh plants and earth, blew puffy silver-white clouds through the cerulean sky over the majestic mountains in the distance.  
  
"5:00, time to train!" Rick's booming voice announced. Champ awoke but didn't open his eyes just yet, trying to contain the special sensation of that wonderful dream. Once in awhile he'd have that same dream. Champ had never been in an actual field because Rick would never allow him to.  
  
The pleasant memories of the dream disappeared in an instant as soon as Champ moved. Sharp pain shot through his entire body. Even when still, Champ squirmed in agony. It hurt just to breathe. When Rick realized Champ wasn't coming, he went into the kitchen where Rebecca put the sleeping Tyrogue the night before.  
  
"Champ?" He questioned. He was scowling with anger at first, but when he saw Champ shaking, he was now very concerned. Rick poked Champ in the ribs gently to stir him, but that was a mistake. Champ started screeching his Pokemon-species name in agony. Rick jerked his hand away.  
  
"Rebecca!" Rick called. "We're paying a certain blue-haired breeder a little visit!"  
  
Later Rick and Rebecca got into Rick's old red truck. Rebecca had Champ in a blanket but she had to be careful, for the slightest amount of pressure made him cry out in pain again. She was lucky to have evaded the little Pokemon biting her.  
  
"Why don't we go to the Pokemon Center?" Rebecca asked, putting her seatbelt on.  
  
"Because Nurse Joy ain't the one who scammed me!" Rick growled as he started the truck.  
  
Rebecca scowled. "Not everyone in the world is your enemy, Dad! This is the reason you can't get a real job!"  
  
Rebecca immediately shut up when her father glared at her with that "I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that" look. Rick, despite the way he treated Champ, had never struck Rebecca. They used to be very close for Rick's wife, Wanda, worked and Rick stayed home to rear their daughter. Since Wanda died, they had become more distant with eachother, especially now that Rebecca was at what Rick called the the "Edgy Eleven" age.  
  
Suddenly, a small fuzzy yellow and brown blur crossed the road. It was a Pikachu, and of course it paused right in front of the truck and sat on its haunches.  
  
"Holy crap!" Rick cried out. The truck went to a screeching halt, spraying pebbles and flecks of mud. Luckily, the truck stopped in time, only a few centimeters away from the Pikachu. The foolish rodent just flicked its lightning bolt tail and bounded away.  
  
"Holy crap!" Rick repeated. "Ugh, if I had hit that thing, I woulda had to pay one helluva fine! Are you ok, Rebecca? How's Champ?"  
  
Rebecca was holding Champ up against her chest. When she realized what she was doing, she wondered why he wasn't crying in pain. Rebecca unraveled the blanket just enough to have a look, and she gasped.  
  
"Oh my god..." she said.  
  
"What now?!" Rick demanded, full of worry.  
  
"Champ...he's glowing...he's getting ready to evolve!" 


	3. Shock of Reality

Note: Any made-up Pokemon you see are my property. No stealy.  
  
Chapter 3: Shock of Reality  
  
"Name of entry?" The lady at the front desk asked Rick.  
  
"Champ," He answered.  
  
"How original....Age?"  
  
"Six months."  
  
"Height and weight?"  
  
"Um, 4'3" and 82 lbs."  
  
The lady swiveled her chair some to get a better look at Champ. "Huh," she said. "Pretty small for a Hitmonchan."  
  
Rick frowned. "He's young."  
  
"I see," the lady replied. "Well you can't enter Champ in the P-1, he has no gloves."  
  
"Erm..." Rick mumbled. "Gloves?"  
  
Suddenly what felt like a big hunk of meat slapped Rick in the back. He nearly jumped out of his skin, even Champ shot up in surprise. The human and Pokemon spun around and were face to face with a bulky bearded fellow who looked like he could eat an Onix for breakfast. Despite his intimidating stature, the man had a kind and jovial expression.  
  
"Ho hah, I can help ya with that!" The man bellowed in a thunderous voice. "I don't mind losing my place in line, come with me, buddy!"  
  
The large man put his arm around Rick's shoulders and started leading him to a plain door. Rick squirmed with discomfort. He looked back and saw Champ just standing there, wide-eyed with astonishment. That man was the largest creature Champ had ever seen.  
  
"Come on Champ, hurry up!" Rick snarled. Champ snapped back to reality and darted after his trainer and that big, hairy monster. Before following the two men, Champ halted and stared at the long metal door knob. Its height was just under his chin. The day that Champ evolved a month prior was the most bizarre experience. One minute he was twisting in pain, and after a brief blackout, he found himself in an adult's body. In a heartbeat his stubby, thin limbs had formed into powerful, lean appendages. He could cover a greater distance in just a few steps and training with a stronger body and Rick, who was closer to his size, became easier and more enjoyable. Champ puffed up in self admiration. He was ready for anything. Or so he thought.  
  
As Champ entered the equipment room with Rick and the bearded man (who introduced himself as Boscoe), a metallic glint caught his eye. He approached the opposite wall and was greeted by a display of unusual training devices; leather belts lined with steel spikes, massive weights, and long rods with knotted ends among other things. They seemed like objects that would be fitted in some machine, not tools. A teenage trainer, whistling to himself and ignoring Champ, strolled up to the wall, took a belt down, and knelt down in front of a small, grey Pokemon with crimson eyes and crests lining its head who looked to be a humanoid dinosaurian, a Machop. Champ watched on in curiosity. The Machop's red eyes glanced at Champ for a moment and then darted to the floor again as its trainer fitted the belt around its waist. The device looked so huge and awkward on the little grey fighter... would Rick ever use that on Champ? Before he could ponder about the contraption any further, Champ felt Boscoe grab one his hands.  
  
"You see these boney caps on the knuckles and finger joints?" Boscoe pointed out to Rick the red, yellow, and pale blue orbs buried into Champ's hand bones. "These are the source of a Hitmonchan's power. They contain the elements of fire, electricity, and ice. Have you ever seen your Hitmonchan demonstrate any unusual powers when training him?"  
  
"No, I've never seen Champ do anything like that," Rick answered. "He's only been a Hitmonchan for a month."  
  
"Wow, he is young!" Boscoe said. "Well anyway, this ability makes Hitmonchan very deadly in combat and it can't enter any legal tournament without special gloves to help contain its power. Let's go pick out something in your price range."  
  
Rick sighed when he heard "price range". As he followed the helpful Boscoe, Champ remained where he was. He looked at his hands and touched the smooth orbs, swirls of varying hues twisting like smoke inside each one. He never knew they had any important function other than acting as shock absorbers for punching. Suddenly, Champ felt something yank his short lizard tail. The Hitmonchan cried out, the unfamiliar sensation sending a jolt up his spine, and spun around. By reflex, he tried to swipe at whatever was behind him, but the nimble tail-yanker just hopped out of the way. Champ grew hot. What was that for?! He demanded. The creature just laughed, it had a feminine air to its voice.  
  
The Pokemon looked similar to a large Tyrogue, but its skin was a greyish-brown taupe color. The three large crests on its head were flexible and flopped forward, indicating it was made of cartilage and not bone. The Bayleef-like eyes were dark blue. Its body had the curves of a teenage female, minus breasts, but the height and head-body ratio of a six year old child. She had unusual diamond shaped cartilage protrusions on her hips and was wearing spring green legwarmers, wrist cuffs, coverings on the chest (similar to Nidoqueen) and what looked like purple stretch pants. The clothed Pokemon seemed amused at Champ, for he was only wearing the waist wrap as usual.  
  
It was to wish you luck, newbie! the female Pokemon smiled. I see you're a Hitmonchan, a close cousin of my kind. What's your name? I'm Aya.  
  
Champ was silent for a moment. What are you?  
  
A Hitmonchik. I'm not surprised you've never heard of us, we're pretty rare.  
  
Oh said Champ, rubbing his hands in a bashful manner. Um, yeah, my name's Champ.  
  
No. That won't do.  
  
Huh?  
  
That name Aya answered. It's so common. Nearly every male Pokemon here is named Champ. I'll show you...YO, CHAMP IN MAKING!  
  
There were several trainers with their Pokemon on the other end of the equipment room with Machops, Machokes, and some Rock types. Only three of the Pokemon didn't turn their heads and looked to see who called their names.  
  
Aya snickered. See? It's too confusing. I want to call you something different. Aya looked Champ up and down.  
  
I like my name said Champ, putting his arms in front of his white chest nervously. He was never modest about his body before, yet having this Hitmonchik eyeing on him made him feel uncomfortable (a Hitmon's reproductive organs are internal in both sexes, so there is nothing physically "questionable").  
  
Wow, you sure are thin Aya observed. She then clasped her hands together. I got it! I'll call you String Bean!  
  
Champ gave Aya a weird look. She snickered. Hey, here come our trainers, String Bean.  
  
Boscoe marched up to the two Hitmon. Aya excitedly jumped on Boscoe's arm and scrambled up to his shoulder. "Hey there darlin'!" Boscoe greeted the Hitmonchik. The two sure were an odd pair, one huge and hulking, the other tiny and delicate. Champ enjoyed the pleasant site, they seemed so happy together.  
  
"Dammit," Rick cursed quiety under his breath. Champ glanced over at his trainer. In one hand he was holding a pair of shiny red boxing gloves, in the other, an empty wallet. He glared at Champ. "Why couldn't you evolve into something that didn't have specific needs?"  
  
Champ just sighed and stood still as Rick shoved those constricting gloves on his hands. He shifted his weight slightly. "Don't move!" Rick hissed. "Mmm... there, that should do. Now listen to me, Champ. I spent my last dime on these gloves, so you HAVE to win this thing. If you don't...well you know what."  
  
Rick got up, gazing intently into Champ's worried eyes. Champ gulped... there was now extra pressure put on him to win this tournament. But what was it really like to fight other Pokemon? Rick and Champ headed to the main room where the battles took place.  
  
"Here we are, Champ!" Rick said. "The point of no return! Now let's go and win us a tournament!"  
  
Rick swung the doors open and he and Champ excitedly ran through. The two slowed their pace and looked around in awe. The colosseum was spacious and dark with several glaring lights illuminating the boxing ring in the middle. The audience surrounding the arena was filled to the max, filling the stadium with chattering commotion. Champ was petrified from both fear and astonishment of the overwhelming activity. Suddenly, a small shot of blood splattered onto the ground in front of Rick and Champ's feet. They faced the ring. It was being occupied by the shaggy swine-monkey Primeape and a beast who looked like a gorilla with a tiger tail and a striped yellow pelt, an Electabuzz. The Electabuzz was leaning against the rope bordering the ring, rubbing the side of its face, scarlette fluid trickling down its mouth. The Primeape was on the other end of the ring panting, its fist out for it had just delivered a powerful blow to the Electabuzz. The Primape's white fur was stained pinkish from the blood of both its opponent and itself.  
  
The Electabuzz snarled. It got down on its hands and feet, swishing its tail angrily. The Primeape took a step back then shot towards the opponent. Electricity flowed over the Electabuzz's body for a moment before it made a surprising leap into the air causing the Primeape to miss its target. The Electabuzz landed on all fours, then took another leap and landed on the Primeape's back. The angry monkey Pokemon screeched as the Electabuzz bit into it. The gorilla- tiger kept letting go and biting, trying to find the Primeape's neck in that mass of thick fur. It snorted in frustration, then started pounding on the wild monkey with its powerful fists.  
  
A red towel flew up from nowhere as a voice called out, "I forfeit!"  
  
A young male trainer climbed over the rope and ran to his Primeape's side. The Electabuzz's trainer, a woman in her mid twenties, congratulated her Pokemon, then held out her hand to the boy. The boy reluctantly shook hands with the victor.  
  
As the announcer claimed "Blitz the Electabuzz" as winner of the match, Rick's mouth was agape in disbelief. He had sparred with Champ, but he'd never taught him to fight like this! While Rick was nervous, Champ was downright terrified. Is this what Rick was expecting him to do?  
  
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," the announcer shouted, "for the ultimate battle of the sexes! The kicking feind, Bruce the Hitmonlee, and the rarely seen Hitmonchik, Aya! This'll be a great match folks!"  
  
Boscoe let Aya out of his arms and she eagerly headed for the ring. "Go get 'em girl!" After seeing what happened in that Primeape and Electabuzz match, Champ felt uneasy. He didn't want to see Aya get hurt.  
  
Aya bounded to the ring with enthusiasm and hopped in. The Hitmonlee slithered into the ring through the border rope with a cat-like flexibilty to his body. As the Hitmonlee got into its fighting stance, Aya started cracking her knuckles and pulling out her fingers one by one so they made a sickening popping sound. She then ran her hand through her crests like it were hair. Aya was just bursting with calm self-confidence.  
  
The bell sounded. The Hitmonlee pulled one leg back, swung it in a circle, then snapped it out. The lithe tendons that connected the cartilage rings in the legs stretched, causing the leg to quickly grow in length, and it rocketed towards Aya's head. She just calmly side-stepped and continued popping her fingers. It was an effortless evade.  
  
Nice shot, Potato-Boy, was it your intention to miss? Aya smirked, not even looking up.  
  
The Hitmonlee's eyes narrowed. His leg retracted, then it shot out again, aiming for Aya's stomach. She quickly hopped up. The Hitmonlee's leg then flipped upwards, but Aya dodged in midair. I think I felt a draft she said when she landed, brushing off non existant dust.  
  
The Hitmonlee was really frustrated now. He ran to Aya, forcing her into a corner, then started rapidly kicking at her. Every time the Hitmonlee kicked, Aya dodged the attack, flipping, rolling, hopping, and even crouching down and running between the Hitmonlee's legs almost on all fours. She was like a swift piece of paper dodging the deadly jabs of a pair of scissors. With each successful miss, Aya shouted out another insult. Good one, Spud! Almost got me that time, dummy! I could do this all day! Ho hum, boooring!  
  
Suddenly, the Hitmonlee jumped up, curled both of his spingy legs against his body, then snapped his deadly limbs right into Aya's side. The impact on her light frame made her fly back and she hit the border ropes hard, landing in a heap. The Hitmonlee watched intensely as Aya struggled up. Her indigo eyes shimmered and tears were beginning to bubble in the corners. The Hitmonlee relaxed his body and approached Aya with concern.  
  
"Finish it, Bruce!" the Hitmonlee's trainer shouted.  
  
Aya looked so weak and pathetic. A stream of tears poured down her face, her small body quivered. The Hitmonlee couldn't help but take pity on her, so he knelt down to her level, one arm outstretched. You ok? he questioned.  
  
Like a bullet, Aya smiled, shot up, and punched the Hitmonlee in the face. Before he could regain his composure, she flipped over his head and performed a quick roundhouse kick in his back. Now the fight was serious. Aya, no longer the graceful evader, was now the powerful aggressor. Even her movements were jerky and erratic, dodging and attacking in unpredictable zigzags. She was a headache to watch. The Hitmonlee managed to get a few kicks in, but Aya always recovered in a bounce and struck back.  
  
Just then, the Hitmonlee aimed his left leg at Aya's feet in an attempt to trip her. She evaded, but didn't predict the Hitmonlee's right leg to swing up over her and smash her in the back. Aya fell into the ground, and the Hitmonlee stomped on her. She curled up. She was in real pain now.  
  
"Aya, remember your training!" Boscoe shouted. Champ held his breath.  
  
Aya, still curled up, started to glow bright red. She quickly folded her legs beneath her body, then pushed up and slammed into the Hitmonlee. The red aura surrounding Aya had now engulfed the Hitmonlee. His eyes bugged out, his body shivered, then he collapsed. Aya stuggled up to her feet and looked down at her opponent. She had used Pain Split.  
  
"YAAAAY, WHOOOOP, ALL RIGHT AYA!" Boscoe hollored right next to Rick's head. He covered his ringing ears. Champ was just as excited as Boscoe, jumping up and shouting, "Hiiiitmonchan!"  
  
Aya happily bounded to Boscoe and he hugged her, his huge arms nearly swallowing her up. When she was finally released, Champ approached her.  
  
Wow, Aya, that was amazing! You're an excellent fighter!  
  
Aya was indifferent to Champ. Yeah, I guess. Heh, you're up next, String Bean.  
  
Huh?! Champ gulped...he wasn't ready yet! He needed more time!  
  
"Next up," said the announcer, "we have Champ the Hitmonchan, progeny of past champion Dharmanyo the Hitmonlee, up against Atlas the Poliwrath! Both are newcomers to the P-1, so I guarentee ya'll are about to witness one exciting match!"  
  
Rick started leading Champ to the ring. The Hitmonchan's apple-green eyes darted from the blood-lined ring, to the limping Hitmonlee Aya beat, to the army of staring eyes watching the ring with anticipation, and focused on his opponent, a massive Poliwrath whose dark blue amphibian skin was oozing with a thin layer of filmy slime. Something about its round eyes and mouthless face sent cold chills down Champ's spine. He dug his heels into the ground as Rick pushed him forward.  
  
"Come on Champ, don't be a sis," Rick said to him quietly through clenched teeth.  
  
Suddenly, the Poliwrath's body expanded, and it let out a deep, vibrating croak. That did it for Champ. Scared, he twirled sharply around and buried his face into Rick's stomach, shaking. Rick was both surprised and disgusted by Champ's pathetic attempt to hide himself. It didn't help much that a few members of the audience were snickering, and one lady exclaimed, "Oh look, the dear thing is frightened! How sweet!"  
  
Rick tried to peel Champ off his body. "Come on, go up there, you're making me look like an ass!" Champ didn't budge. "Ok, we can turn back and go home if you like, but boy, I'll give you such a whallop..."  
  
Rick didn't need to finish his threat. Champ backed away and turned around to face the ring. He inhaled deeply and then proceded forward with hesitant steps, the Poliwrath's bulging oculars watching his every move. Even though Champ only walked a few feet to reach the ring, it felt like the green mile. His heart thumped wildly as he and the Poliwrath got into their fighting stances, waiting for the bell to sound the start of the match.  
  
Ding!  
  
Champ's mind went completely blank. The Poliwrath's massive form rushed towards him, its froggish eyes narrowed. It struck Champ in the face leaving a gooey imprint. Champ was thrown back and his head slammed against one of the poles supporting the plastic-covered rope bordering the ring. Hot, sweet fluid filled his mouth...blood. The taste sickened Champ, but a new feeling was rising up inside him. Rage. Rick's training suddenly flashed back to his mind. Champ growled deep in his throat.  
  
He shot up and glared at the Poliwrath, bouncing back and forth in place. He was ready for anything now. As the Poliwrath shot towards Champ ready to slap him again, he dodged to the left, making it miss. The Poliwrath made a sharp turn, almost slipping in its own slime, and attempted a Karate Chop to Champ's throat. Champ dodged again, feinted to the left, then bounced to the right and struck the Poliwrath right between those round eyes he hated so much.  
  
As the Poliwrath pulled back in pain, what felt like a current of electricity shot through Champ's spine, traveled through his nervous system, and burned in his knuckles. Electric sparks danced across his gloves. Champ quickly rushed to the Poliwrath before it could have a chance to recover and took a swing. The electricity of the Thunder Punch connected to the Poliwrath's moist skin. The smell of amphibian flesh being fried filled the air as the electricity pulsated throughout the Poliwrath's body and its eyes bulged. It then collapsed onto the ground with a liquidy thud. Champ took a step back and watched the Poliwrath's twitching body. Then he looked as his gloves, the burning sensation still pulsing in his knuckles. What the heck did he just do? He looked out into the audience to find Rick, as if he'd have the answer.  
  
"Champ, look out!" he heard Rick's voice call out. Champ spun around, but there was no opponent...only a slimey Poliwrath shaped imprint on the ground. He noticed his shadow rapidly expanding. Champ looked up and saw the Poliwrath plummeting towards him from the air. Before he could react, he felt himself crushed by the mega-tadpole's heavy body. The wind knocked out of him, Champ gasped desperately for air. The Poliwrath's damp body reeked of swamps and sweat. It then got up and slammed down again. It repeated again and again, crushing Champ into submission with its damp, bone-shattering mass.  
  
Finally, the Poliwrath ceased. Champ lay there in a slime soaked heap, trying to recover from that deadly Body Slam attack. He could taste a mixture of marshy sweat from the Poliwrath's skin and his own blood. Champ then felt someone scoop him up. It was Rick. He brought Champ close to his body.  
  
"Chaaan..." Champ whimpered. He looked into Rick's disappointed and angry eyes before losing consciousness.  
  
The sunlight bathed the lush meadow in a golden brilliance. The long grass rippled in the wind. The leaves of the trees shimmered like millions of tiny emeralds as they were tossed by the gentle breeze. The wind, scented with fresh plants and earth, blew puffy silver-white clouds through the cerulean sky over the majestic mountains in the distance.  
  
Champ awoke with a jolt. It was that magnificent dream again. He felt good until he realized he lost the match. Not just any match, his first match. All those months of training and preparation, all those harsh beatings he had to endure...what was going to become of him now?  
  
Judging by the vibrations and the crunching of the asphalt, Champ knew he was in the back of Rick's truck on the way home. He sat up and peered over the side, the wind making his eyes water. They were driving past the fields, now golden under the orange evening sky. A flock of plump Pidgey glided across the grass and floated onto the telephone wires to sleep for the night. Two Growlithe puppies playfully wrestled with one another under the watchful eyes of their mother. They reminded Champ of Fae.  
  
A few nights before, feeling anxious and nervous about the upcoming P-1, Champ entered Rebecca's bedroom (she always kept her door ajar)to find Fae. He really wanted to hear her comforting words tell him how he was going to do just fine and not to worry. It seemed like ever since he evolved, Fae had been avoiding him. Champ discovered why. Laying under the window sill and bathed in moonlight was Fae...with tiny, white, fuzz balls mewing and nursing on her. Champ stepped back. What were those things? He gave Fae a questioning look, but she only replied with a cruel hiss. Champ took one last look at the tiny kittens before turning away and leaving the room. He had no one to turn to now. He was alone.  
  
All alone.  
  
There was the old tree stump with yellow fungus growing on it. Just one more turn and they'd be home. The truck stopped and the ignition turned off. A door slammed. Footsteps crunched on the road. Champ's heartbeat accelerated.  
  
"Champ, come here."  
  
Champ obeyed. He had to. Rick was his trainer and today Champ let him down. He approached Rick with both shame and acceptance. He paused in front of Rick, never looking him in the eyes. Rick sighed.  
  
"Why did I name you Champ anyway? I know for a fact you sure as hell ain't one."  
  
WHACK! 


	4. Desensitized

*Notes: I replaced the earlier chapters, so instead of having clothes attached to the body, Aya has artificial attire like a human. I also put some more description into Champ's appearance, so you may want to skim through the earlier chapters to see what's changed. The reason why I had the clothes attached to the body idea before was because I was shy of describing how a humanshape Pokemon in the nude appears, but I'm braver now. This chapter is also incomplete, I have another scene planned at the end but it is proving to be so difficult to write, I decided to just post what I have so far and update later. I know how it's going to end, it's just introducing the scene is all.  
  
Also, this chapter contains a very disturbing scene which may upset some of the more sensitive viewers. I may even push the rating to "R", but that is undecided currently. Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I never read Farla's fic, but someone warned me that she portrayed fighting Pokemon badly and they were killed because they were loyal to their trainers or something like that. I assume she's a good writer, but I strongly dislike prejudice against my favorite Pokemon type. One of my goals of "Guilty by Design" is to show Fighting Pokemon in a different light, but it's a personal story too. I will tell more about this fic when I'm done (if ever) and I'll post a special chapter on author notes.  
  
Oh yes, I found out that guy from the anime is actually named Anthony, but I've been calling him Rick for so long, the name stays for now. One of these days I need to update these chapters again, heh.  
  
CHAPER FOUR...  
  
"I feel kind of strange doing this," Rebecca thought, "But I have to do what Devin says."  
  
The young girl held her hand out to the Rhyhorn calf. The rock Pokemon took one stepped towards her and sniffed the abrasive cloth she was holding. It snorted and began to lick at the cloth. Rebecca smiled. She started rubbing the touch fabric first on the Rhyhorn's face, then its side. With a loud thud, the calf flopped over on its side, and saliva began to trickle out of his mouth. The creature was in bliss.  
  
"I see the baby Rhyhorn likes his 'massage'," Rebecca heard her boss, Devin, call. He was the same blue-haired breeder who sold Champ's egg to her father. The man looked like he was doing some sort of odd dance. Rebecca was confused until she saw a pair of Pichu shoot out of his shirt. One of the rodents climbed up Rebecca's arm and perched on her shoulder, stuck its snout in her ear, sneezed, then zoomed into her shirt. The other Pichu skidaddled up her back and settled in her hair, making a nest. Rebecca laughed as she tried to get a hold on the hyper critters.  
  
"These baby pokemon are great!" she giggled. "This has to be the best job in the world! Is Fae alright?"  
  
"Just fine. She's still recovering from the anestesia. I'm glad you finally brought her to be spayed, domestic Pokemon overpopulation is a major problem."  
  
"Yeah. So, um, how much do I owe you?"  
  
Devin laughed. "Rebecca, I know your family is having financial problems. The operation was free. Plus, having an extra pair of hands around here helping me out is more than enough thanks anyway. The kitten is doing fine too, though it's due to be bottlefed soon. Odd how Fae only had the one."  
  
Rebecca suddenly became still as a statue at the mention of Fae's kitten. She nervously put her head down as she struggled with the Pichu in her shirt. "She's old", Rebecca said quickly, as if wanting to change the subject.  
  
"Makes sense," Devin nodded. "Let's go and tend to the kitten now."  
  
Rebecca just swiftly got up and followed her boss without a word. As they passed the window, she stopped and walked up to it. Autumn was approaching, the green leaves of the trees were tipped with bright red and the air was a bit cooler. Rebecca sighed. She was thinking about her real reason she wanted Fae to be spayed. And why there was only one kitten. And why she took the job at the breeder's other than earning extra money. She wanted to avoid her father. And Champ.  
  
Days prior, shortly after the P-1...  
  
Champ can fight, Rick thought. Champ can fight damn well. But he is lacking something.  
  
As he was walking though the house on his way to Champ's quarters, Rick suddenly felt something slippery and wet through his socks. He nearly tripped, but caught himself on a table. "What the... HOLY SHIT, THOSE DAMN MEOWTH!"  
  
Apparently, one of Fae's older offpsring had left a tiny gift in clear view on the floor. Although not technically family pets, the lanky adolescent Meowth could come into the house quite easily through the screen windows. Rick cursed under his breath until an idea popped in his head.  
  
"Champ!" Rick called. The Hitmonchan, upon hearing his trainer's voice, nearly jumped out of skin. Since he lost the P-1, he had been fearful of Rick. Champ rubbed the side of his face and cringed... the bruise was tender now, a grotesque blackish purple against his otherwise cinnamon brown skin. A painful reminder of his failure to carry out his trainer's wishes. He shuddered as he forced himself up, dreading what sort of punishment Rick had in store for him.  
  
Rick slapped his hand onto Champ's shoulder, a friendly gesture which had the opposite effect. Champ flinched, but Rick didn't seem to notice this. "Come on buddy, we've got training to do!" Champ relaxed a bit... he was so relieved Rick had a happy tone to his voice. Something good was to come, he could feel it.  
  
When the two reached the shed they always trained in, Rick said, "You wait here and warm up, I'll be right back." The Hitmonchan nodded, and when his trainer left, started punching at the bag. Champ was happiest when allowed to train without supervision. It showed that he could be trusted, that he could do something right. Plus, he could be alone with his thoughts as he trained, and didn't need to make constant eye contact. Champ was working on automatic now, deep in his thoughts.  
  
"I'm back!"  
  
"Hit chan!" Champ greeted back. He noticed Rick carrying a cardboard box. There must be a new training device inside. Champ was excited and a bit nervous at the same time. His curiosity heightened when he heard an odd mewing sound coming from inside the box.  
  
Rick reached inside and took out a tiny white kitten... one from Fae's recent litter. Its miniature ears were flopped down and the eyes were closed, its short, thin legs were reaching out for nothing. It was the first time Champ had ever gotten a good look at a Meowth kitten. He was mesmerized by its alien cuteness and innocent cries.  
  
Rick set the kitten on a sawhorse which was against a wall. It was now about level to Champ's chest. "Ok Champ," Rick said. "This is what I want you to do. I need you to give this little sucker a good, hard punch."  
  
Champ looked at his trainer with a puzzled expression. Did he just say what he thought he heard?  
  
"Come on Champ, do it just like we trained. Like this." Rick made a fist with his left hand and made his other one flat, than punched into his right hand real hard, simulating what Champ was sopposed to do. Rick was smiling.  
  
Champ faced the kitten. He gulped, a hrad lump beginning to form in his throat. The kitten's little head wobbled as it let out another mew. Champ started to shake.  
  
"Come on," Rick said, lifting up Champ's wrists. "You can do this. There. Now, just strike forward, real fast like."  
  
Champ took in a shuddering breath. He made a quivering fist. The kitten cried, louder this time. It must be calling for Fae. Champ's heart started thumping so hard, he could almost hear it. His swallowed, then started lowering his fist.  
  
Rick nudged Champ, but the Hitmonchan remained petrified. His shaking body and unsteady breathing were the only visible signs of life. Rick sighed heavily, and walked off a bit somewhere. Champ's eyes were locked on the kitten. It was trying to crawl, its short tail was vibrating. It was all Champ could do to keep his moist eyes from shedding any tears.  
  
WHACK!  
  
Without warning, something hard and tough suddenly struck Champ between the shoulders, sending him hard on his knees. Champ clenched his sharp teeth as the pain throbbed and stung.  
  
"What's wrong with you?!" Rick demanded, a thick, neon orange cord in hand. "How do you ever expect to win anything if you can't even sock this little hairball? Now get up!"  
  
Champ quickly got to his feet. Despite what Rick wanted, Champ could not bring himself to put any harm on the kitten. He was fixated on the little pink mouth letting out the sad mews. He put his fist forward, then pulled back. Why couldn't he accomplish this one simple task?   
  
WHACK!  
  
The impact of the second beating made Champ almost lose his balance. He was whipped right where the first strike was hit. His thick, hot blood starting to trickle down his back. Champ closed his eyes as he cringed in agony.  
  
"I knew you were a waste of money!"  
  
WHACK!  
  
"You can't do anything right! Just when I have a faith in you, you let me down!"  
  
WHACK!  
  
"HITMONCHAN!" Champ roared. His eyes still shut, his struck his fist forward. He slammed into something warm and soft, what felt like fragile twigs underneath snapped from the impact, and a weird, short choking sound was heard. Champ opened his eyes slowly. He did it. He had hit his target. The Meowth kitten was limp now. Crimson splatters now stained the top of the sawhorse. Champ could feel his knees weaken and his stomach became queasy.  
  
"Alright, great job!" Rick said. "I knew you could do it!"  
  
Champ lowered into a crouching position and hung his head, trying to get the sick feeling to go away. He couldn't believe it. He could feel the soft fur, the delicate bones, everything. But Rick was happy. Champ opened his eyes. Had he done good?  
  
"Good thing there's a lot more where that came from." Champ looked up and saw Rick removed the dead kitten and place a live one on the sawhorse. Champ stood up and put his head back, glancing at the cobwebs on the ceiling, then put his head back down and faced the kitten. This was going to be a long afternoon...  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
Rebecca had just gotten home from school. She was just about to go inside the house when she heard Fae meowing. It was coming from the back yard. Curious, Rebecca quickly tossed her books on the front steps and walked around the side of the house to the yard. She was a bit surprised to see her Meowth sitting at the closed door to the shed that Rick and Champ always trained in. She was even more surprised to see Fae pawing at the door and meowing. The cat sat down quickly when she saw her caretaker and her tail whipped around. She let out a musical "Puree?"  
  
"Hey there Fae, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your babies?" Rebecca questioned. She held out her hand and Fae rubbed her face against it. It was then that Rebecca heard the high-pitched kitten-like mews coming from the inside of the shed. Why would a kitten be in there?  
  
Rebecca opened the door slowly and Fae burst through. The girl saw Rick and Champ with their backs to her, Rick giving the Hitmonchan some sort of command. Fae trotted to a small pile of what looked like white fur and started sniffing at it. It took Rebecca a moment to process the horrid sight into her brain... Fae's kittens.  
  
"Ok Champ, this is the last one... Fae, what are you... oh jeez." The two turned around. Rebecca was staring at them. Her face was pale, her eyes were wide as dinner plates. Champ, who had gotten used to his current training, suddenly felt a terrible, sinking feeling.  
  
"What the... you... OH MY GOD!" Rebecca cried. She shoved Champ out of the way and grabbed up the uninjured kitten. It was the last one. "Why are you doing this?!"  
  
"Jeez, calm down," Rick said to his hysterical daughter. "Fae has kittens all the time, these won't be missed."  
  
"Did you have to kill my Meowth?! Oh my god..." And with that, Rebecca quickly gathered Fae up in her free arm and rushed out of the shed, the impact of her running sending up clouds of dust. Champ hung his head low. He didn't even think about how Rebecca would feel about this, but what's worse, Fae looked him right in the eye before she was out of sight.  
  
"Ignore her," Rick said. "She's just trying to disrupt our training. But you did great Champ today, I'm real proud of you. Now, let's go... we have to see if that training has paid off or not."  
  
Champ straightened up. He kept trying to tell himself that he had done good. Rick was happy for him. But Champ realized there was more in store for him. And no matter what, he couldn't let Rick down again. He was very tired though, for in a few hours was the time Champ usually goes to sleep. But he could tell by Rick's excited energy that they were going to do something else tonight. What? 


	5. Blazing Battle

"BUUUULL!!!"  
  
"CHAAAAAAN!!!"  
  
With bruises over both of its eyes, the robust Granbull rushed towards Champ, massive jaws agape. Champ, covered in dirt and scrapes himself from the bipedal canine's attacks, was about to dodge, then suddenly had another idea. He stayed in place and closed his eyes. Sparks of electricity formed what looked like glowing veins on his gloveless hands. The Granbull saw the beginning of the Thunder Punch attack, but couldn't stop in time. Champ coiled his legs beneath himself and took off in a spring, his fist bursting with lightning energy. The electric attack struck the Granbull right in its moist mouth. The large purple dog was shocked inside and out, its eyes bugging out and its body appearing to be in a seizure. Champ let off and the Granbull collasped onto its side.  
  
"I forfeit!"  
  
The Granbull's trainer picked the fainted dog up with some difficulty, then carried it off. Champ was slightly hunched over, panting heavily. His recent match took place in a dirt covered, makeshift ring. It was indoors with chicken wire and high boards lining the ring perimeter, giving it a caged in look. It was rather large though, more than 20 square feet in diamter. The interior of the building they were in itself was worn down and filthy, and the few lights inside did a poor job of illuminating the place. The small audience around the ring were elevated, giving the ring a lowered down feel.  
  
Champ had just participated in a series of underground Pokemon fights. Unlike an organized Pokemon League approved match, these had no particular rules and death was a possibility... so far, every trainer Champ has beaten had forfieted before any such tragedy could occur. Champ did not want to cost another Pokemon its life. His shivered as he pictured the dead Meowth kitten in his mind. Trying to rid the gruesome mental image, Champ looked at his trainer. The Granbull's trainer thumbed through his wad of cash before handing his wager over to Rick. He looked so happy. Champ was beginning to feel better. He knew that he had accomplished his goal of pleasing Rick. Rick approached Champ and knelt down beside him.  
  
"Champ... wow," Rick beamed. "I just can't believe... well, let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, huh? You did amazing for your first time. Let's call it a night, eh buddy?"  
  
"Impressive," a voice was heard. Rick and Champ looked up. To Rick's surprise, they were being addressed to by a young woman, somewhere in her twenties. She had short, red-dyed hair, round rim glasses, and a rather neat, black outfit consisting of a simple shirt and slacks. She seemed familiar somehow to Rick, but Champ had never seen her before.  
  
"Didn't I see you at the P-1?" Rick questioned.  
  
The woman flipped her hair and laughed. "You silly Psyduck... I won it."  
  
Rick was dumbfounded. Of course! He left the tournament right after Champ was k-o'd by the Poliwrath. He never stayed to see who the winner was. He felt slightly embarrassed. "I had to leave early to tend to my Hitmonchan."  
  
The lady snickered. "Oh yeah! I remember you now! Your Hitmonchan was flopped around like a ragdoll by that Poliwrath! He's so scrawny, I thought he'd have been a goner by now. Let me see him..."  
  
Before Rick could protest, the woman knelt down to Champ's level and looked him straight in the eyes. Nervous, Champ tried to look away, but the lady cupped her fingers under his chin and looked deeply into his eyes. "Hmm... kinda dull. His skin tone too. You shouldn't be able to see the socket definition like that, he's too thin." Champ sort of "eeked" in surprise when the lady felt his sides and waist. He squirmed and pulled in discomfort. The trainer continued her analysis. "Hs muscle tone is excellent, but everything else is... so-so. He's almost a year old, he should be bigger than this."  
  
Rick fumed. "Who died and made you the queen of Hitmonchan standards? Just because you won some tournament doesn't make you an expert."  
  
"Oh I think it does," the woman said, winking. She stepped back from Champ and reached for a single red and white Pokeball on her belt. She swiftly grasped the ball, spun it in her fingers, then tossed it down. "Go, Cyclone!"  
  
As a white light and a cloud of smoke formed, Champ leapt back in astonishment. He had never seen a Pokeball open before. His fright turned to curiosity as the light took a familiar shape. He was stunned... it was another Hitmonchan! This Hitmonchan was nearly a foot taller than Champ and had a much more impressive build. His body was teaming with lean muscle, his eyes glimmered like freshly polished emeralds, and his skin was a healthy deep reddish tone. There was something else unusual about the Hitmonchan named Cyclone... he was wearing a loose, purple tunic with a tight black belt on the waist, and plain purple shoes on the feet. He also had fingerless black gloves, but the knuckles were cut out exposing the blue, yellow, and red orbs.  
  
Um... Champ said, avoiding the larger Hitmonchan's eyes. He really wanted to converse with this creature who was the same species as he, but Champ had to remember that he had a fight to win... this was business. Just when he was about to question the garments, Champ heard Rick's voice ask about the purple attire. The Hitmonchan's owner said that it was to show how good a fighter the Pokemon was. It was a symbol of a champion fighter's excellent reputation. The trainers left the ring, ready to give orders for the upcoming match.  
  
Naked are we? Cyclone laughed quietly. Good, that means you'll be able to feel the burn better The Hitmonchan's knuckle orbs suddenly glowed bright red. Champ put his fists to his face and got into a fighting stance... this was going to be a tough opponent.  
  
"Alright, last match of the night," the unofficial ref announced. "This is a one on one, no time limit, anything goes... only one survivor unless one trainer forfiets. Ready, GO!"  
  
Champ had just barely took a single step forward when suddenly he saw a flash of red, then black nothingness as a surge of fire struck him hard in the face. Champ could smell the singe of his own flesh as he hit the ground. His own tears blinding him, Champ bounced back up and tried to seek Cyclone out. He was just about to try to strike back when a wave of warmth was felt, followed by a strong, agonizing punch to the head. Champ quickly recovered despite the severity of the blow. He quickly figured that he could sense Cyclone by feeling the heat from the Hitmonchan's Fire Punch.  
  
Easier said than done. No matter how hard Champ tried, Cyclone always struck first and hard. Champ's vision was still impaired and now his body was covered in burns and scrapes from hitting the ground. Champ suddenly heard a slight scuff behind him. There was Cyclone... so close. Champ quickly twirled around and bounded towards his opponent, the small sparks of his developing Thunder Punch forming. Just when Champ made contact, he cried out in pain and pulled back. Impossible! Cyclone's body was so terribly hot, he couldn't be touched. Now what?  
  
"Cyclone!" the pyromaniac Hitmonchan's trainer called. "Show this little waif the meaning behind your name!"  
  
"Champ, try another Thunder Punch!" Rick called out in desperation.  
  
Champ wiped the tears from his eyes yet saw only the hellish red of Cyclone's flames. Swift footsteps surrounded the singed Hitmonchan and intense heat formed around him. Cyclone was using a combination of an Agility and Fire Punch to entrap Champ in a deadly ring of flame. Champ couldn't move, couldn't breath. The heat was overwhelming. He could barely make out the muffed calls of Rick. Champ realized that he was going to die. He was going to fail the one person he cared so deeply for. Rick depended heavily on Champ winning, so what is going to become of the human if his prize Pokemon perished?  
  
An odd coolness suddenly washed over Champ, soothing and healing his burn wounds. Champ could now see clearly. He noticed puffs of steam coming from his mouth as he breathed and small crystals flowing around his body. Instead of marveling at the unusual phenamonon, Champ instead clenched his fists and boldly charged through the flames. They didn't harm him at all. Everyone grew silent as the young Hitmonchan landed on the other side, even Cyclone stopped his fire twister and stared in surprise. Champ's body was surrounded in a pale blue aura, and his knuckle orbs glowed bright cerulean. Champ rose to his feet and faced his opponent. The two Fighting types, one flaming red, the other glowing icey blue, glared at eachother for a tense moment. Cyclone, his knuckle orbs pulsing with crimson energy, bounded towards Champ, who remained still, ice crystals danced around his fists. Just when the fiery fighter was about to strike, Champ thrust forward and made contact with Cyclone's chest. But what happened next was truly surprising; Cyclone became frozen and shattered. Pieces of Cyclone broke into even more shards as they hit the ground. As the ice lifted from Champ, he stared wide-eyed at his opponent's remains surrounding him. He trembled from the repulsive sight and his own freezing cold body.  
  
"Champ!"  
  
That was Rick. He ran up to Champ and embraced the cold Hitmonchan. Cyclone's trainer slowly walked out to the middle of the ring and glanced at her prized Pokemon's now thawing remains on the floor. Her eyes watered. She then scowled, cursed, and tossed Cyclone's no longer functioning Pokeball on the ground and started pacing angrily. She felt a tap on her shoulder.  
  
"I think you owe me something?" Rick said in a conceited tone.  
  
The woman took in a shuddering breath as she reached into her pocket and removed the cash prize in her clenched fist. "Here!" she spat as she slapped the money into Rick's hand. That was the last thing she ever said as she stormed away, pushing herself through the crowd of people.  
  
Many of the audience members suddenly rushed to Rick and started congratulating him. He relished in the attention and began gloating about how well he trained Champ. As the commotion went on, Champ, with one arm around his trainer's waist, eyed the arena where Cyclone's pieces remained. He lowered his brow and a small smile formed arcoss his lips as the signifigance of this victory began to sink in.  
  
He felt no remorse. 


	6. Where the Heart is

It was a lovely, warm spring day. A few puffs of cloud dotted the sky as the sun's heat melted the snow on the distant mountains and caused the once dry ditches and ravines to fill up with fresh, crystal clear water. One would have to look close to spot the placid, bloated frog-like Politoad as they relieved their bodies of the burden of eggs with the aid of the smaller males. The once dormant Metapod and Kakuna pupas were beginning to crack and open up as the adult Butterfree and Beedrill were slowly making their ways into the world, their forms covered with liquid and their wings shriveled and folded. Even the Sunflora, depressed and dull from the rainy winter, began to open up and show off the cheery faces they've been hiding beneath their golden petals.  
  
Cutting through the middle of this miraculous scene was a narrow dirt path. A large bearded figure and a short, child-sized humanshape Pokemon with diamond shaped protrusions on her sides and head, and odd purple and bright green attire were treading the road. It was Aya the Hitmonchik taking a walk with her trainer Boscoe the hiker. He was whistling "She'll be coming around the mountain when she comes".  
  
The hefty man finished his verse and took in a deep breath. "Man, this is beautiful country Aya. We really should visit the Celadon region more often. Sure, the place is known for the city, but few people appreciate the great outdoors like us, eh girl?"  
  
"Hitchik!" Aya answered back. She remembered last time they were in Celadon for the great P-1 tournament a few years ago. She never forgot the young Hitmonchan known as Champ, though they had only met for a brief moment. The last she saw of him he was knocked out and he appeared dead. Boscoe rushed Rick and the slime-covered Hitmonchan into the men's lavatory to try and wash the goo off; the fluid covering Poliwrath's skin would become dangerous if it remained. All the while Aya watched from a safe distance, missing her next turn and becoming disqualified from participating in the remainder of the tournament. But neither she nor Boscoe minded, they only entered for fun, plus the hiker was known to put others' problems ahead of his own.  
  
And another problem was making its way. Aya felt an odd sensation run down her spine and a quick image of an injured Pokemon flashed in her mind, too brief to identify. She recognized the feeling of Psychic energy. Being a fighter, she was sensitive to psy powers, but this wave felt more like a cry for help than a challenge to fight. Aya snapped her head up and noticed a figure making his way towards them. He appeared to be a young boy and he was carrying something... the injured Psychic Pokemon. Aya quickly chirped her Pokemon species name and yanked on Boscoe's arm. "What is it Aya?" Boscoe questioned. He then looked forward and paused. The approaching kid looked very distressed and the limbs of the Pokemon he was carrying in his arms were dangling limply. The boy collasped to his knees breathing hard when he reached Boscoe and Aya. In his arms was a Kadabra. Its long ears were torn, dark bruises covered its delicate frame, and the spoon it perpetually held in its hand seemed partially melted.  
  
"Holy... what happened?!" Boscoe cried out as he kneeled down and stroked the injured Kadabra. The boy swallowed as he tried to catch his breath.  
  
"He... Kadabra... battle... we were... ugh," he sputtered and coughed.  
  
"Well don't just stand there, it'll die! Look, there's a Pokemon center not too far off, do you have a Pokemon you can use for transportation."  
  
The boy rigorously shook his head and tears welled up in his eyes. "Kadabra can teleport... but he's real weak. All of my Pokemon are like this. Oh, what if something awful happens? What if they die?!"  
  
Aya began to feel ill with nervousness as her trainer swiftly removed one of the few Pokeballs from his belt. He opened it up and a great flaming horse with a white pelt and a horn on its forehead burst out. The boy backed away from the intimidating Rapidash.  
  
"This here is Uni. Don't worry, his flames are safe." Uni pressed his soft, pink muzzle against the boy's hand as if reassuring him. Boscoe quickly grabbed the boy around the waist and lifted him onto the large unicorn. "Uni, I need you to bring this lad to the Pokemon Center we were just at and return to me promptly, got it? Now go, quick, use Agility! Hold on tight, boy!"  
  
The flames being benign, the boy grabbed Uni's thick neck with one arm and held onto Kadabra with the other and they were off in the blink of an eye. Boscoe and Aya continued their hike in silence. The Hitmonchik was thinking deeply about the hurt Kadabra... Psychic Pokemon were usually difficult to battle because of their ability to predict attacks. So whatever injured this one must have been...  
  
"HEYA! HEY! I REMEMBER YOU!" Boscoe's thundering voice quickly broke Aya's train of thought. She lit up at the familiar sight... it was Rick and Champ sparring not too far off. Or what she thought was Champ. This Hitmonchan had an air of power and confidence, a far cry from the timid youngster she met years prior. He was also fully clothed with the violet tunic, shoes, and ruby colored boxing gloves Hitmonchans were commonly associated with. As Boscoe made friendly conversation with Rick and told about the boy they saw, Aya approached the Hitmonchan. He blinked in recognition when he saw her... this had to be Champ.  
  
Well, if it isn't good old String Bean. Judging by those clothes, I see you must've been a busy boy. So, how ya been?  
  
Aya attempted a handshake yet Champ slapped her hand away, appearing offended. Aya was surprised that he didn't understand a common greeting, yet she failed to notice the anger rising in Champ. She then heard Rick speaking.  
  
"Hey, how about a little match, one on one? I'd like to see how your little bitch there would handle Champ."  
  
Aya, offended, glanced at Boscoe but he seemed oblivious to that duragatory comment. Champ also failed to change his expression.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure... Aya, what do you say?"  
  
"Chik!" She got into a fighting stance and glared playfully at Champ, smiling a bit. She'd show Rick the true meaning of bitch, and have fun toying with Champ's mind in battle. Let's see how much better you got, String Bean. she winked.  
  
Champ growled as the humans shouted out their commands to their Pokemon. That is NOT my name! he roared as he charged towards the female fighter.  
  
* * *  
  
In the sterile confines of the friendly Pokemon center, a perky red-haired Nurse Joy trotted about, humming as she completed odd jobs and checked up on the Pokemon in her care. It was a slow day yet she was used to keeping herself occupied. As the nurse filed some documents away, the glass doors burst open and a robust Rapidash galloped through. Joy barely let out a shriek when she saw a young boy slide off the horse's side holding his Kadabra in his arms.   
  
"Nurse Joy, it's an emergency! Please, my Kadabra and other Pokemon are really messed up!"  
  
Nurse Joy would usually scold a trainer who let his Pokemon get into such a near-death condition, but she decided to save the lecture for later and ushered the boy to the counter to deposite his Pokemon onto a tray. She then told him to go wait on a bench while his team were being healed.  
  
The boy sat down and hunched over, staring out into space. He did not pay attention to Uni casually trot back out of the center, nor did he notice the young teenage girl seated next to him with a Persian asleep at her feet. The girl leaned over and stroked the Persian's ivory fur. The wild cat rubbed against her in response.  
  
"Come Cal... it is time," the girl said. She rose out of the bench and left the center, Cal the Persian trailing close by.  
  
* * *  
  
This is insane! The fight had lasted for several minutes, yet neither Pokemon had come into contact with the other. Champ was a machine, fast and deadly, his punches shooting endlessly like raging pistons, his agility impressive and blinding. Yet Aya was just a bit faster. She had no opening to strike, she was too busy dodging and evading the attacks. She couldn't even think, her eyes were focused only on Champ. Aya was even unable to use her trademark insults.  
  
She had enough, something had to be done. Aya attempted to sidestep and tried to strike Champ, but the Hitmonchan was one step ahead of her. One moment Aya was ready to do a Karate Chop, the next her face was buried in the ground and she was being pounded violently all over her body. Aya tried all she could to roll out of the way or fight back, but Champ was too determined and strong, his forceful punches much too overwhelming for the light-weight fighter. Champ himself had little expression. Like Aya, he was incredibly focused, but his focus was on defeating Aya at any cost. Just like any other opponent.  
  
Meanwhile, Aya's bearded trainer was petrified with horror. He suddenly snapped back to reality and called out in a quivering voice "Aya... oh... try to use Pain Split!"  
  
Aya didn't know how she did it, but she somehow rolled out of Champ's line of fire. His fist slammed into the rocky ground with such impact it left a shallow crater and a slight vibration was felt. Aya stood on her hands and knees, panting and shaking in pain. A sting of discomfort in her side indicated a broken rib or two, and who knew what other internal injuries she had. Aya glanced up and noticed Champ taking a break himself, yet he was standing with a straight back and barely breathing hard at all. Now was her chance. Aya began to glow red, her body gathering all of the pain and agony she had to endure during the fight and preparing to counter all of the hurt to whoever came into contact with her. With her last ounce of strength, Aya took a pose similar to a bunched up rabbit, and took a flying leap at Champ. His skilled eyes saw the attack from a mile away. He swiftly performed a side jump and Aya crashed into the ground, landing in a jumbled heap. Champ didn't wait long to continue his deadly punch barrages.  
  
Boscoe had enough. "Stop! I give up! Rick, stop the fight, PLEASE!"  
  
The whole time, Rick had been standing with his arms confidently crossed and smiling at the result of years of traning. He grinned calmly and said "Champ, let up."  
  
Champ made an abrupt halt, rose up, and approached his trainer. Aya, on the other hand, was barely breathing and blood trickled out of her mouth and various wounds. Her body was mottled with bruises and dirt scrapes. Boscoe cautiosly approached his Hitmonchik and carefully slid his hands under her body. He felt horribly guilty for letting her get in this condition, but he also felt awful about trusting Rick. Boscoe couldn't even look him in the eye. Champ meanwhile had returned to Rick's side, and he slid his hand behind Champ's crest giving a slight squeeze to his muscular neck. Champ closed his eyes in pleasure. He had done well.   
  
"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you in the P-1 next year, eh?" Rick laughed. He and Champ walked off, never looking back. Boscoe just stood where he was with his jaw agape in disbelief. How could anyone be so heartless? And how the heck did Champ get so... aggressive? Boscoe felt the warmth and slight fuzz of his Rapidash's muzzle. He took in a shuddering breath as he placed Aya inside of his jacket. He then clambered onto Uni's back causing the Rapidash's sides to bulge out slightly from the weight, and, just like the boy and his Kadabra from earlier, they were off. It didn't take long for Boscoe to realize that it was Champ who had injured the psy Pokemon from earlier so brutally.   
  
It was late afternoon when Rick and Champ arrived at the familiar fighting grounds, located in a remote area to prevent discovery from authorities. A small crowd of fellow trainers swarmed around Rick and greeted him. He was their idol. Just a newcomer years ago, Champ rose in the unofficial ranks and gained popularity, and he had the attire to show for his amazing skill and talent. He rarely lost a fight. The other trainers had to frequently replace their Pokemon, either because they believed their current ones were unfit, or they underestimated Champ's skill and forced their Pokemon to battle until they met the grim fate of so many other illegal dueling Pokemon...   
  
"Heya Rick!" one trainer announced. "I've got this Machamp in a trade. I think she'll do pretty good."  
  
Rick smirked. "Better than that Heracross Champ barbequed last week?"  
  
The trainer winced at the memory of his perished oversized beetle. "Heh, I think your little boxer has met his match today! Come on out, Athena"  
  
The spectacled young man released his four-armed titan from her spherical confine. The great Machamp let out a mighty roar as she spread her arms in an intimidating fashion. Machamp were androgeneous, that is, there was little physical difference between the males and females.   
  
"Looks like you'll have to take down another lady today," Rick told Champ. He slipped the gloves off, ready to do his worst. Champ and Athena stood on opposite sides of the cleared off arena until their trainers commanded their attacks...  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Rick snapped his head back at the familiar yet surprising voice. Sure enough there was his daughter Rebecca. Rick sneered.   
  
"What the... you shouldn't be here! My god, if you tell the cops about this place, I'll..."  
  
"I want to fight," Rebecca calmly interrupted her father. Several blank faces stared at her. "I am serious. I would like you to meet Calpurnia."   
  
From behind a rotting tree stump came the sleek form of a Persian. Her frame was lithe yet muscular and the crimson gem on her forehead glimmered, a sure sign of good health. The puma-like Pokemon rubbed her face into Rebecca's hand and sat down on her haunches, intense feline eyes watching Champ's green ones. Champ had a sinking feeling of a long forgotten memory rekindled.   
  
"I have raised Calpurnia since she was a Meowth for years. I never scolded her, never beat her, and I was always sure her opponents were promptly healed after every match. It was hard work, yet I was able to evolve Calpurnia into her highest form."  
  
"Well gee," Rick scoffed, hands on his hips, "I guess all that 'hard work' is gonna go to waste, right Champ?"  
  
"I don't think so... and I will win without harming Champ."  
  
Rick couldn't believe his daughter's ignorance. What was she trying to prove? "Well, I really don't want to upset you Rebecca, but things don't turn out that way outside of fantasy land. But if you must... go take your position at the arena."  
  
Athena the Machamp abandoned her spot and the Persian took her place. Athena was very relieved; she was well aware of Champ's reputation. Just about all of the Pokemon in the region knew of him, even the wild ones who witnessed his victories and passed on the word. Calpurnia was oblivious to the Hitmonchan's impressive history though. Despite his skill, Champ was nervous. Not only had he never fought a quadroped, but he was very surprised that Rebecca had been training a Pokemon behind her father's back. Where did she keep this Persian anyway?  
  
WHUMP!  
  
Champ did the mistake of not paying attention and now he was sprawled on his back with the large Calpurnia on his chest. Champ, fuming from embarrassment, swung up a fist, but the Persian swiftly slapped her paw against it and dug her claws into the elemental knuckle orbs. A crack was heard and Champ felt an odd sensation in his knuckles. Champ was so surprised, he didn't even try to stop Calpurnia from doing the same to his left knuckle orbs. She had disabled Champ from using his most powerful attacks... it was a temporary handicap, but Champ had never experienced anything like this before. He grew hot with rage when the Persian winked at him. Her paws were pressing his hands on the ground and her great weight was holding Champ down.  
  
"Champ, WHAT are you waiting for?! Beat the crap out of that Persian!"  
  
"Calpurnia, remember what I taught you!"  
  
Champ could fight without his elemental powers. He quickly curled his back and attempted a strong kick to Cal's gut. Cal just flopped onto her side, causing Champ to miss. Champ bounced to his feet, but to his astonishment, he found himself surrounded by a whole army of Persian. When did she use a Double Team? Champ wasted no time trying to figure the situation out, he just resumed the fight. Blindly attacking the temporary clones would be pointless, he had to find a difference... the clones always had obvious flaws that distinguished them from their flesh and blood creator. But Calpurnia was skilled; all of the copies looked exactly like her. They were so convincing they even casted shadows, a technique almost no Double Team using Pokemon could achieve. Champ growled in frustration and decided to take the foolish approach, randomly attacking each clone.  
  
The battle was eventless and frustrating. Rick could see the real Calpurnia, but just when he would shout out an order to Champ, the crafty cat would create another legion of faux Persians, and the cycle would start over. It felt like an eternity had passed. Champ, his chest burning and body aching from exhaustian, stood in place with his hands on his knees, taking in deep breaths. He was panting so hard he failed to hear Rebecca command an attack, and just like in the beginning of the match, Champ suddenly found himself on the ground, this time laying on his stomach and Cal sitting on his back. She then lay down and mocked falling asleep, escalating Champ's rage and desire to turn her into a fur coat. Champ struggled and flailed, but the heavy, muscular Persian was too much for his wiry frame. Champ's anger melted into panic and fear as the realization that he was losing the match sunk in.   
  
What's worse, Champ knew that he was letting Rick down. Not only was he losing, but he was losing infront of all of Rick's peers and admirers. But what baffled Champ was Rebecca's intentions. He was aware that she spent most of her time away from the house, only returning of course to sleep and to take care of Champ (Rick wasn't one to enjoy providing Champ with basic maintenance). He tolerated and even enjoyed Rebecca's attention, but that attachment was replaced with distrust...  
  
"Ok Cal, get up," Rebecca told the Persian. Champ rolled onto his side when the heavy Persian slinked off of him. He felt the heavy vibrations of Rick's footsteps approaching. Without warning, Champ suddenly felt his arm being tugged so hard it felt like it were being yanked from the socket. He found himself face to face with Rick. Champ couldn't look him in the eye... he couldn't stand the disappointment and anger in his trainer's expression. Rebecca interuppted any punishment Champ was about to receive.  
  
"I bet you didn't know where I got this Persian... remember when you were training Champ a few years ago, and my Meowth kittens were being used?"  
  
Rick just glared at his daughter. There was murmuring going on behind him from the other illegal trainers. Champ just stared at the ground, not wanting to make eye contact with Rick nor the Persian he almost killed years prior as a kitten. "Well, what's the point, huh?" Rick growled, his grip tightening on Champ's wrist. "You're always prancing around like the sissy pacifist you are, so what made you want to train?"  
  
Rebecca scowled from her father's comment. "I wanted to prove... that a creature raised with love and care was and will always be stronger than one raised with harshness. Dad, I want you to stop training Champ. Please. This is all wrong... taking lives, the harsh punishments... this isn't the way Pokemon training was meant to be."  
  
Rebecca tensed up as she awaited Rick's rebuttal. He was at a loss for words, but she could tell that he was furious. And Champ was terrified. Rick glanced back at his peers. They were speechless. Both Rebecca and Champ knew that Rick had more in store for them as he ordered Rebecca to come straight home with him, and Champ dreaded the punishment that was to come when they reached their destination...  
  
*********************  
  
The steamy water hissed like an irate Ekans as it filled the rather large bath tub. Rebecca turned the water off, the dial let out a wheezy scuff. She pulled up her sleeves and faced the far corner. Sitting in a fetal position was Champ, his body covered in harsh bruises, his green eyes dark and glaring. Rebecca felt terrible... defeating her father in a Pokemon battle had the opposite outcome she was hoping for. Instead of seeing the error of his ways, Rick had beaten Champ furiously, and now Rebecca was forbidden to go to her only escape from this awful house life... no more volunteer work with Devin the breeder. She even ordered her Persian to retrun to the breeding centre, any future visits with the cat would have to be brief and in secret. But now she had Champ to tend to. Mustering up her courage, Rebecca forced a false smile as she tried to invite Champ to his bath.  
  
"Champ... hey... the water it's... it's time for your bath, don't you want to get in the nice, warm water? You'll feel all nice and clean..."  
  
Champ didn't move a muscle, yet a nearly inaudable growl vibrated in his throat. Baths were one of the few pleasant, relaxing events in Champ's daily life, but how could he enjoy this luxory if he couldn't trust Rebecca. In his mind, she was the cause of his pain... it was her fault that he lost, that Rick had to beat him, that it would take more time to build his good reputation up again. Rebecca hesitantly reached for Champ.  
  
"Come on, let's take off those filthy clothes."  
  
Rebecca gave a small tug to Champ's tunic. He snapped. In the blink of an eye, the angry Hitmonchan roared and charged towards Rebecca. The burst of her own adrenaline saved Rebecca as she darted out of the way, screaming. She raced out of the bathroom and slammed her hands into the opposite wall, her arms stinging with pain from the inertia. She then attempted to shield herself from any approaching attack, her eyes squeazed shut as she anticipated an attack from Champ. But instead of a pummeling, Rebecca heard her father's voice and the sounds of Champ growling and struggling. She opened her eyes and found her father with his arms wrapped around the squirming Hitmonchan. Champ finally relaxed and stopped his angry fidgetting.  
  
"Good boy Champ," Rick said in an oddly soothing voice. Champ then closed his eyes and nuzzled against his trainer's chest. Rick ignored the sign of affection and faced his daughter sternly. "Geez Rebecca, now what did you do? Isn't it enough that you humiliated Champ today, then you have to go provoking him even more?"  
  
Rebecca was disgusted by that comment. "Wha... you... I did... how can you...?!"  
  
Rebecca silenced herself as Rick said "I'll take it from here". The young teen stormed away to her room. Ignoring her, Rick and Champ entered the bathroom, and Champ slid into the tub obediantly after Rick unclothed him. He winced as Rick rubbed the soapy damp cloth against the Hitmonchan's back. Rick was rough, but Champ didn't mind. All that mattered was that he was getting the attention he craved. The beating from just minuted ago were absent now from Champ's memory. He grew drowsy and blissful. The lavender suds trickled from his shoulders and down his belly and formed into puffy cotton mounds floating on the water. They looked like clouds. Champ closed his eyes from the pleasure of the warm water and the closeness of Rick.  
  
***  
  
The sunlight bathed the lush meadow in a golden brilliance. The long grass rippled in the wind. The leaves of the trees shimmered like millions of tiny emeralds as they were tossed by gentle breeze. The breeze, scented with fresh plants and earth, blew puffy silver-white clouds through the cerulean sky over the majestic mountains in the distance.  
  
***  
  
Champ never remembered falling asleep. He awoke in his quarters, also known as the storage room. His bed consisted of various sheets that had become worn and unwanted over the years. Champ was nude now, and when he rose the friendly warmth of sleep drifted away, replaced by the house's regular coolness. After letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, Champ became angry with loneliness. He had ruined one of those rare chances where he and Rick became truly close by falling asleep. The door of the storage room could not open from the inside. Champ paced for a bit, then settled down on a far wall and curled his body as close as it could get to the wall. He became silent. Champ closed his eyes and slowed down his own breathing rate. He had put himself into a trance. The subtle drone of the house's insides and Champ's own beating heart became very clear. But the Hitmonchan shifted slightly in excitement when he heard the squeak of Rick's bed in the next room. So close yet so far. Champ relaxed even more. Now he was overcome by the bitter scent of coffee, salty oils of human skin, and minty toothpaste. Champ's senses were at their peak. He could hear, smell, and even taste Rick.   
  
But he could not feel him. Champ became frustrated again as he rose and trudged to his bed. He would show them... Champ promised that tomorrow he would put his best effort into fighting, even if it meant killing a whole legion of Pokemon. Just to please Rick. Battle strategies filled Champ's mind as he settled into the bed, lay on his back and put him arms behind his head. With each victory, Champ could feel himself becoming closer and closer to his goal; for Rick to love him. Champ's one simple wish was to crawl into Rick's lap, just like when he was a young Tyrogue, and just enjoy attention that didn't involve training or battling of any kind. Champ comforted himself with this fantasy as he fell asleep once more, his lust for fighting rising as he slumbered. 


End file.
